


Re-Gift

by blythechild



Series: Gift Stories 2013 [1]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Aliens, Crack, Dogs, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Gift Fic, Gift Giving, Pets, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 04:16:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blythechild/pseuds/blythechild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder gives Scully a pet. Scully gives it back.</p><p> </p><p>This is a work of fanfiction and as such I do not claim ownership over the characters herein. It was created as a personal entertainment. This story is suitable for all readers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Re-Gift

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of my gift fics for 2013. The original prompt came from cherie_morte who asked: "Contrary to what Agent Mulder keeps insisting, at no point during that case did Scully say that she wanted to keep the alien-dog-creature as a Christmas present." LOL! That line was so good that I had to put it in the story - thanks, blossom!
> 
> Also, I have allowed Scully and Mulder to text message in this (it's MY story, I can do what I want!). I'm sure that if the technology permitted it 20 years ago, they would've been texting like crazed teenagers.

“Mulder!”

Scully slammed on the apartment door again, irritated that Mulder was trying to dodge her. It was nine o’clock on a Saturday night - where else would he be? He didn’t have a life outside of the Bureau and, unless he had been abducted again, she always had a fairly accurate idea of where to find him. Sitting in his darkened apartment pretending that he was elsewhere was childish and insulting to her intelligence. She shifted the wiggling bundle in her arms to her other hip and then leaned into the door.

“Mulder, I have a key, remember? Don’t make me use it… I know that you’re in there.”

The bundle wriggled again and made a gurgling noise. She looked down and the creature opened its mouth and began panting. The sight had a horrifying effect what with the double row of fangs and its blue-ish tongue that forked at the tip. There was no way that she could pull this off and contrary to what Mulder kept insisting, at no point during the case did she say that she wanted to keep the alien-dog-creature as a pet. They classified it as ‘a dog’ because of the hair, but it was a stretch even though it appeared to be wriggling its bum with happy tail-wagging. 

The door suddenly opened and Mulder stood there with an irritated look on his face. “How could you be certain that I was here?”

Scully raised a critical eyebrow. “Deductive reasoning based on a mountain of anecdotal evidence, personal experience and general familiarity. You know… _science_.” She pursed her lips and thrust the dog-thing at him. Dog-thing was wagging its tail even more furiously. “Take him. Enough’s enough.”

“Oh no, Scully. You’re the one with the animal mojo. You’re… more nurturing than me.”

Scully made a strange combination of incredulous sounds before she tossed Dog-thing at Mulder forcing him to catch it. Dog-thing appeared to make a squeal of glee.

“Queequeg was one thing, and I loved him right up until he was _eaten_ by one of our cases, but I’m not the ASPCA, Mulder.”

“But he is a gift.”

“Mulder,” She was using that tone that made her sound more like his long-suffering wife than his partner, so she took a breath and continued on as if explaining something simple to a very small child. “I don’t think that you understand what that word means. A potted plant is a gift. A nice coffee table book is a gift. A cashmere scarf is a gift.” She used every millimeter of her 5’3” redheaded ferocity to emphasize her point, and to her surprise Mulder took a small step backwards at the sight of it. “ _This_ is something out of Lovecraft and I’m not going to have it wandering around my apartment eating up my security deposit. How am I supposed to explain it to a dog sitter, or a doggie daycare facility?”

“Just say that he’s a Pit Bull cross. Isn’t that what everyone does when they have a dog with a questionable heritage that they don’t want to explain?”

“And what do I say when his saliva burns through the flooring, or about his _retractable spines_? I haven’t even discovered what he eats yet, Mulder!”

“Well, I’m a fish guy, Scully. _Fish_. You’ve seen them. I don’t do dogs.” He held Dog-thing out to her at arms length looking newly worried about the saliva comment. Dog-thing’s whole body contracted into what might have been a sneeze, or a bark, and even Scully had to admit that it was so ugly that it was almost circling back around to ‘unfortunate-but-cute’ again. “Listen, I’ll see if I can get Frohike to take him. Those guys are basically housebound anyway, and they might get a kick out of this… Just, just take him until Monday, okay?”

Scully crossed her arms and shook her head. “I can’t. I have a date tonight and I’m already late for it. You found him and decided not to reveal his existence, _you_ take care of him.”

“You have a date?” Mulder seemed to deflate a little allowing Dog-thing to droop against him in his arms.

“Yes. With a profiler from Behavioral Sciences. He’s a genius.” Scully smoothed her skirt and checked her watch.

“All of those profiling blowhards think that they’re geniuses.” Mulder grumbled. “ _I’ve_ written profiles…”

“He has an I.Q. of a hundred and eighty-seven.” Scully deadpanned.

“I went to Oxford.”

“He received three doctorates before he reached twenty-five.”

Mulder hesitated. “I can sing ‘Love Me Tender’ in four different languages, all while convincingly mimicking The King.”

“Good night, Mulder.” Scully turned and started back down the hallway. “A word to the wise, use rubber gloves when you clean up after him - it burns.”

Mulder looked down at Dog-thing and mouthed the word ‘gross’ while it wiggled with happiness in his hands. “I warn you - if anything happens to my Nicks shirt, I’ll have you stuffed and put on display in the Smithsonian.”

Dog-thing appeared to bark in agreement and Mulder looked up as Scully stepped into the elevator at the end of the hall. “I’m not wishing you luck on your date…” he called after her.

Scully turned and gave him that angelic smile that made him tingle despite his better judgment. She waved goodbye and the elevator whisked her away.

“Well, _that_ was smooth…” He mumbled to himself as he turned back into his apartment, kicking the door shut behind him.

\----

Scully was on a high as she let herself into her townhouse. Her date had gone well. The profiler was a bit bookish and a little too fascinated with paraphilias, but they had never once discussed little green men and he had proven to be an above average kisser. He also had the invaluable quality of irking Mulder, and she found that to be a _very_ favorable state of being. Yes, she was definitely considering a second date as she kicked off her shoes and thought about how Mulder’s evening had gone. As if on cue, her cell phone buzzed. She read the text and smiled, hoping that she had finally managed to hammer her point home.

_\-- I found out what it eats. You owe me some new fish. ---_


End file.
